A change of plans
by kouw
Summary: The house on Brouncker Road is finished and that means decisions have to be made


When the renovations and repairs are finished and the house on Brouncker Road is ready to be used, the housekeeper and former butler of Downton Abbey take an afternoon to inspect it. They find the workmen have left their investment fairly neat. Inside it's dusty and it smells heavily of paint, but the sun shines through recently washed windows and the wallpaper is bright.

The kitchen is modern. Outfitted not only with a fridge, but also with a gas stove. It's much smaller than the range they use in the cottage and it's supposedly much easier to handle.

After inspecting the bedrooms and bathroom, Charles and Elsie Carson stand in the parlour hand in hand and don't say anything. The atmosphere is heavy with their silence. There's not even a clock ticking to slice through the thick cloud that surrounds them.

When he finally speaks, it's paired with a small squeeze to her hand.

"What do you think?"

The answer comes quietly. "You've chosen well."

"But?"

A sigh adds to the nervousness of both lovers.

"I wonder..."

"Yes?"

"Now our lives have changed so much..." she doesn't finish her thought.

Change has been plentiful these past few months since Charles retired. There was the unexpected passing of Elsie's sister. The long awaited engagement between Daisy and Andrew. Lady Mary expecting and Lord Grantham helping out with estate affairs again because of it.

"Do you think the house still suits us?" His question is answered by asking it.

Elsie shakes her head, worrying her lip. "It's a home now. It's better suited for a growing family."

The three bedrooms are well appointed but Elsie can't see people boarding here. It's not convenient. Besides: she likes her alone time with her husband. She wants to be able to sit next to him and put her head on his shoulder. She wants to kiss his cheek when the mood strikes.

She wants to do all sorts of things when the mood strikes.

Things you don't do with other people in the house.

"I don't think our family will be growing much," he answers and she shakes her head with a tiny smile.

"Unless you count a possible pet, I am fairly certain it will be just the two of us."

"For better, or worse."

She feels his hand shake slightly in her own and she runs her thumb along the top of his hand, soothing him.

"I find I rather like it. This whole 'for better, or worse'," she says and steps infinitely closer to him.

"Me too."

Charles looks around.

"What do you think?"

There's a lot of butler in his voice. A butler who organises the smooth running of the house with the housekeeper.

"We could let it. To a family. Or sell. The money would provide us with a solid nest egg," she stops speaking for less than a second before continuing: "Or you, at least."

He doesn't answer. He knows better. Money will always be a difficult subject for them. Elsie's independence is a sore point, a bruise than never seems to completely disappear. He understands. Better now his own infirmity has pushed him from his position. He understands that it's pride and that there's a tinge of shame.

"We don't have to decide right now," he says instead.

"No."

They both know they won't be living in this house. It would be a constant reminder of what might have been, had Charles not been afflicted with his tremor. A reminder of a business proposal that was actually a proposal of a different kind. Letting go of that means they'll be like any other retired couple.

It means they will at long last be at leisure. After a lifetime of working for others, there'll be time to devote to nobody but themselves. There won't be bells to answer, nobody but themselves to answer to. The only ledger they'll keep will be a book of household expenses.

"Let's go home," he offers and she smiles at him. In it he sees all his wife is and her strength. Her kindness and a streak of her wicked, naughty sense of humour. He sees her love for him and basks in it. He doesn't let go of her hand and she doesn't let him go either.

Together they go through the door and Charles locks it. He hands her the key and she puts it in her purse - after all: keys have always been safest with her.

Only when they get to the road do they shift their hands. Elsie puts her arm through Charles's and they walk back to the village. Calmly.

As if neither of them knows they are walking away from what might have been. Just two people. Happy. Content. Husband and wife.

Nothing special.


End file.
